


You Don't Know My Name

by AlexandraHamilfan (SilverMillenium_QueenNeptune)



Series: Time Cannot Stop Love [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Character, Daveed is Lafayette, Daveed is Thomas Jefferson, Declarations Of Love, Genderfluid Character, Lin is John Laurens, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Reader is Alexander Hamilton, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMillenium_QueenNeptune/pseuds/AlexandraHamilfan
Summary: When the reader meets Lin and Daveed at a coffee shop, she feels an instant connection to both of them. They don't know her name, but they do know her, and the special bond between the three of them will blow their worlds as they thought they knew them apart.





	1. It was only a matter of time....

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a note here: This was originally intended to be written for an assigned female but genderfluid reader. Tags have also been updated.

Your naturally dark hair swayed in the breeze as you made your way to your favorite coffee shop.  Somehow you knew today was going to change your life, but you didn't know how it was going to work. You'd awoken with expectation, something you'd never had much of for your own life. This one had been fairly quiet for you, but you knew it wasn't your first life. Your first couldn't have been more different. 

You'd struggled with a powerful sense of lost identity, though you could feel that not everything had repeated itself. This time you were nowhere close to the tragedy that had been your first life. But you still had no real clue as to who you'd been before. The memories came to you in dreams. If you were honest, they were more like nightmares. and the person you saw never reminded you of your current self.  He was a boy on a small island in the West Indies, and you were a woman living happily in New York City. The boy you saw had red hair. Yours was dark blonde, though it did turn reddish if you dyed it, before calming into the golden hue that appeared more natural with your skin tone. The boy on the island was hungry, cold, alone, and wishing for death. You had no idea who he was.  Today though, you were about to find out. You pulled your hair into it's typical top knot. 

* * *

 When you got to the coffee shop, a familiar face greeted you, one you could swear you knew by multiple names, but you had never called the barista by the name you held in your mind, a fragment of your past, a connection to a woman who, at one time in your past life had meant the world to you.  You calmed yourself, barely avoiding a Freudian slip. No one here knew who you had been before. It was better that they didn't, not until you were perfectly sure. After a beat, you breezed,

"Hi Pippa. Usual, please."

"Large coffee, two creams, five sugars?"

"You do know me well. Thank you, my dearest.", you sighed, and she blushed. Pippa wasn't exactly your type, though you didn't have any problems having relationships with or attracting both men and women. You'd realized you were bisexual after a fling with a woman in college, but you knew now that you preferred men. Or at least, this incarnation of you preferred men. You frowned when you noticed the tattoo on her wrist. She was already spoken for. You looked down at your own skin, unblemished by the dark sweeping marks that identified the names and passions of your soulmate. Or soulmates. Having more than one had been something you hadn't expected. Wasn't it greedy to want more than one? Your thoughts were broken into then, by a man entering the  shop. You stared down at your arm, feeling a sting as words appeared inked on your fair skin: You gasped quietly, so as not to alert Pippa.  There was another man in the shop now, staring at the menu as you felt your flesh sear with the sting of a new tattoo forming. Then, he noticed you, and spoke the words that were now inked into your arm.

"Whoa. You're stunning."

"But. . . you don't know me. You don't even know my name.", you whispered, and the handsome hazel eyed stranger gasped. 

"Looks like I'd better learn it. Because you're my soulmate. Uh, sorry. Let me back up. Hi. I'm Lin. Lin-Manuel Miranda." You told Lin your name, still wincing at the sting in your arm. 

"Let me guess. Thought you'd never meet me like this?" He laughed.

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed back, still stunned at the circumstance. But both you and Lin knew there was something missing.  For now, though, the two of you had found each other. Finding the missing piece was only a matter of time. 


	2. Perhaps the Past is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elated about meeting you, Lin tells everything to Anthony, who reveals that Daveed has been having dreams about his past life. Daveed already knows he's meant to be with Lin, but he also knows there's more to the story than that. Will he find the missing piece?

With his coffee in hand, Lin took a taxi back to the theatre. He could not get you out of his mind.  He had to wonder if the two of you had always been meant for each other across past lives. He'd personally never believed in any of it, considered it all mumbo jumbo until he'd picked up a biography about founding father Alexander Hamilton by sheer chance, and began to read. It had led him to write a number of raps for a project that he didn't have any idea about yet. Little did he know, it would all click into place soon.   There was so much about his past that had never made sense to him until the idea of past lives had come up. The more he thought about meeting you, the less sense it made. 

Somewhere along the way, Lin had begun having dreams. They were vivid flashes of a past he could not remember. Most stunning of all was the revelation that he had not been a native New Yorker across his lifetimes. In the one that was most vivid to him, he had been the son of a merchant. His father had been Henry Laurens.  He had been keeping this information to himself, but he knew he would have to tell someone eventually.  So he talked to the one person that he knew would understand.  When Lin had begun writing songs for  _Hamilton,_ he'd felt a little out of place attempting to play the founding father. Nonetheless, he'd pressed into the role, feeling tied to it in a way he didn't know how to explain. He was startled out of his reverie when Anthony walked up. 

"Hey Lin? You okay. You look a little. . . whoa.", Anthony began, stopping dead in his tracks as he noticed the fresh words inked into his friend's skin. He smiled. 

"So who is he... or she...?"

"Anthony, why do you always assume I'm bi?"

"Because you are, my dude. I think you were probably gay in your past life, though. I'm telling you, I'm playing the role you should be.", he laughed and Lin blushed. 

"Oh, stop it. You always say that."

"No, seriously.  I think you were John Laurens in a past life.", he said, and the words hit Lin like a ton of bricks. It  _would_ explain everything. His activism, his status as an ally, it all made sense. Laurens had been a passionate man, and Lin was much the same.

"She.", Lin whispered. 

"What?"

"She, Anthony. The answer to the question you asked me earlier, 'Who is he...or she...?' If you're right. . . my past lover was a man. . . and he's been reincarnated as a woman."

"Wait, are you saying. . .? Have you found Alexander?" Lin frowned. 

"If I have... he-- _she_ \-- doesn't know who she is, yet. I don't think she has any clue who I really am, either."

"Then how do you know she's Alexander?"

"Because I could never forget those eyes as long as I live.  No matter how many lives I cycle through, it never changes. It's how I know I've found Lexi.  Alexander had the most stunning eyes I've ever seen in any lifetime. Violet blue. She has them, too." Anthony whistled and stood up. He had engaged a very reflective conversation, one he hadn't been prepared for. 

"Oh. shit. You're really in deep."

"I could never help it with Lexi. They were special." Knowing what he knew now, it made more sense to refer to his past lover in gender-neutral terms. 

" 'Lexi'?"

"I was the only one who ever called Alexander that. First thing I remembered when I realized who I'd been. I knew I had to find Lexi. My life wouldn't be the same--complete--til I found them. They found peace after I was gone. With someone I thought they hated.", he sighed. 

"Do they know? Who you are?"

"I'm not sure what they know." But he knew he had to find out. 

* * *

Later that evening, Daveed Diggs found himself tapping his foot impatiently in his dressing room when his co-star walked in. He turned to see Anthony and sighed in relief. 

"Hey, dude."

"Diggs, you look tense, what's up?" 

"I've been having nightmares, lately. Things I need to  talk out with somebody.", Daveed admitted, keeping his voice unusually quiet.  His hands were shaking. The usually confident rapper's eyes showed heavy bags, and Anthony instantly knew where the conversation was headed, because Lin had opened up the same way.  But, Anthony reasoned, he had better let Daveed tell it. He needed to process it and get it out of his system.  So the story began. The nightmares of a founding father and slave owner from Virginia who had spent time in France. 

"Wait. . . so you're telling me you think your soul was somehow split in two?"

"Yeah. Like I was Lafayette and Jefferson at the same time. At least that's what my dreams are showing me. Hang on though, it gets weirder."

"Wait, let me guess. Both of you had a relationship with Alexander Hamilton?"

"Yes. But the part of my soul or whatever that was Lafayette... I was also with Laurens too. Both of them."

 "Have you found Laurens yet?"

"Yeah. . . of course I have. I knew Jacky the moment I saw him in Lin's body. Same eyes."

"And Alexander?" 

"On that front, I have no clue. But something tells me this will sort it out. Or fate will do it for us. My skin tingles every time I walk by the coffee shop right by the theatre. Trust me. Once I have them both, I'll know. I just hope Alexander doesn't hate me like he did before..."

Anthony could only pray he was right. It made him thankful that he had not yet found his soulmate. Love was complicated enough without past lives screwing it all up. If only Lin and Daveed had realized that the adventure  was only beginning. 


	3. Round and Round and Round We Go...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the reader has a deadline, they wander into the coffee shop to get a boost. Daveed and Lin encounter the reader by chance. But fate won't have them see the truth just yet. As with the title of this story, chapter title inspired by "You Don't Know My Name" by Alicia Keys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold italicized text indicates a dream sequence. Also of note: I am basing the reader on an assigned female but genderfluid identity so the pronouns she/her and they/them will be used interchangeably.

You sat back in your chair, staring at the last hour's worth of work. You were not at all sure how you had landed this gig as the secretary to the Attorney General of New York. Still, somehow you were painfully aware that your job was a far cry from your past life.  You looked up at the time and swore softly in a third language, wondering how you'd learned French when you'd chosen--wisely, you knew now--to study Spanish in school.  As a secretary, you did quite a lot more than the job would ever pay, and you were never sure you belonged among all the politicos and self important people who often wanted to get meetings or short audiences with your boss. You'd had more than a few get into your face today. 

You clocked out, let your boss know you were leaving and hailed a cab like every New Yorker who'd lived here long enough to know that traffic was shit as it was and they barely had time.  An hour went by fast in a city like this.  But you loved New York. You would have to leave the city kicking and screaming if it ever came down to it. This place was yours. It was where you fit in.  You stopped yourself from pulling your tablet from your purse to keep working on an all important draft from your boss. This was time for you.  Even when it was meant to be, work called. As you downed your chosen sandwich an email came swooping in, making you grateful that you hadn't chosen to go to lunch totally tech free.  Your trusty iPad could help you resolve the errors in the speech you'd been transcribing for your boss before you'd left.

"Looks like I'm working through lunch after all, Pippa.", you told the cashier and barista as you paid for your food. She frowned. The two of you had gotten used to seeing one another. 

"Leaving so soon?", she asked, and you paused.  She looked genuinely upset to see you go, and while she wasn't exactly your type, there was something about her. Her demeanor had always been gentle and warm, and you felt at ease with her in a way both of you understood but could not voice. She was everything you needed to help keep things calm. 

"I. . . I could, but you guys have free wi-fi here for customers, right?", you asked hopefully. 

"We sure do.", she offered, with a big smile that made your mood improve tenfold. Still, you noticed, nothing appeared when you spoke to her. You'd been waiting for the sign of meeting your soulmates since you were seventeen years old, and yet, nothing had indicated that you found  them.  That was how old you'd been when the dreams--nightmares really--had begun. You'd heard about the telltale stinging of your very first soulmate tattoo, but you had yet to feel it for yourself.  You knew your past life hadn't been an easy one. The dreams told you that much.

* * *

**_You were huddled in a small island home with your mother. You were both very ill, and there was no way to afford any kind of help. You closed your eyes and listened to her breathe, wondering if each one she took would be the last. You often wondered how your father could refuse to recognize you and your brothers. This left you a bastard and your mother a whore.  Now, you were on the verge of losing all you had left.  You were in her arms when her breathing stopped. She was gone, and you and your siblings were on your own._ **

**_Everything your mother had was taken from you. You went to live with a cousin, Peter Lytton. The arrangement didn't last long. Peter died by his own hand, and you and your siblings were separated after less than a year.  Somehow, God was merciful and you thrived. Then a hurricane came when you were around seventeen, and one letter to your father  changed everything. Instead of being left for dead, you galvanized the community, who pooled their resources to book you passage on a vessel headed for New York._ **

* * *

There was no doubt in your mind that those scenes were memories. The boy with the sad indigo eyes was you.  The very first time you had experienced one, it felt as though your heart was ripped from your chest. As you wrote and watched and waited, you tried to erase the images, but no such luck prevailed. They were seared into your consciousness. You were so focused on the content of your dreams and your work that you barely heard the jingle of the opening door. You didn't see the men who walked in, and barely heard them as they ordered, but something about the exchange made you smile to yourself. When you happened to look up, you noticed a handsome African American man with an afro, who looked slightly amused by his companion. The gentleman at his side had shoulder length hair, pulled up into a small bun. He was Hispanic. If you'd had to guess, you would have assumed he had Puerto Rican heritage. He spoke in hushed but excited tones, and something made you stare for a moment before looking away. They never noticed you. Or so you thought.  But you didn't hear any of their conversation to know what came next. 

* * *

 As Lin walked out with his coffee in hand, he turned to Daveed and smiled.  He felt energized by more than the coffee, and his whole body was humming with it as he spoke. Daveed just laughed. Lin was always hyper when he was passionate.  But today, it was a different topic. Not politics, not the play, but love.

"Hey, did you see that girl in the coffee shop today?"

"Lin, we see Pippa every time we go there, you know that's her second job."

"I'm not talking about her. The one who was on her laptop at the table across from us.", Lin sighed as his eyes danced.  Daveed tried not to roll his eyes. His boss' flair for the dramatic was working overtime today.  He had no idea what was going on, and yet, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling they had missed something. 

"Maybe. Hey, are you sure we weren't supposed to do something else at the coffee shop?"

"Something like?" 

"I dunno, man. See someone. Talk to someone.", Daveed offered with a shrug. 

"What are you on, Diggs? This isn't like you."

"Stop. You know me better. I just-- well, I can't really explain it." Lin didn't want to admit he felt the same way. It was almost as though they had missed something, but neither of them knew what. Meanwhile, you finished your lunch and headed back to the office, shaking off an eerie feeling as you chose a different route to drive you by the Richard Rogers theatre. You looked up at the marquee and sighed when you saw the all too familiar logo for  _Hamilton._

_I just hope they get it right._


End file.
